Once More With Feeling
by Cella N
Summary: In the Soul Society, it's more usual for men to be the portrayal of strength and power. But we all know they're all under some woman's manipulation skills. [IshiHime, IchiRuki, KenUno, and many more]


**Title:** Once More With Feeling (or What Happened During The Week After Aizen's Betrayal)  
**Author: **Cella,  
**Rating:** PG-13   
**Fandom:** BLEACH  
**Pairings:** IshiHime, IchiRuki, HitsuMatsu, KenUnohana, hinted Yoruichi/Urahara, and blink-and-you'll-miss-it Renji/Byakuya  
**Spoilers:** Soul Society arc, one hint at the Filler Arc, and some slight AU. Very slight.  
**Summary:** In the Soul Society, it's more usual for men to be the portrayal of strength and power. But we all know they're all under some woman's manipulation skills.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own. Bwah.

**ONCE MORE WITH FEELING**  
**(or WHAT HAPPENED DURING THE WEEK AFTER AIZEN'S BETRAYAL)**

1.

Rukia sighed for the fourth time that morning, and glared down at the grass. After about five minutes of glaring at the offending green piece of land, she sighed again, and blinked to regain focus.

Two days.

She hadn't expected to live, really. Actually, it wasn't until Ichigo stepped in front of her, ready to protect her from the executioner…and it hadn't been stepping in front of her, actually. It had been more like landing gracefully, like a ballerina, minus the leg lifted in one of those prissy postures. And, and well, Ichigo was no ballerina, more like a cape-wearing prince with shiny _ban kai_. And well, he didn't exactly kill the dragon or something as heroic. Actually it had been completely stupid of his part, jumping in front of the blazing…fire bird, expecting to live. Nevertheless, Ichigo surpassed her expectations, through and through. For one, he managed to survive, and managed to save her. Okay, not save, because Rukia didn't need saving like some prissy ballerina-princess. More like…prolonging her stay in the Soul Society.

Two days had passed since the whole Aizen-Turned-Out-To-Be-Very-Evil fiasco, and she still wasn't used to being…alive. Not that she had been alive _before_, but free of those shackles, and free to roam, and…

She wasn't used to it.

Of course she was used to freedom, freedom of movement, of being quick and sharp. Had been ever since the beginning, but now it was different. She still hadn't found her place _anywhere_, but at least she knew someone she belonged to. Even though he didn't know that yet. And might not ever know.

Rukia wasn't ready to go with Ichigo. She had to surpass her fears of having become weak now, she had to stay. She had to stay for Nii-sama, and try to mend _something_ of what was there. Had to snap at Renji at least one more time. Or a thousand, really. Had to…had to run, run, run, run through the Sereitei, dodging people, and stands, and smells, and never be caught. Because she was Rukia, and she was unstoppable. The lack of shackles around her neck…heck, the lack of _lack of life_ in her body proved that. Even though Ichigo had contributed to the prolonged life she now had, she was still unstoppable. A bit out of shape, so she still had to train. Stay here, and train.

And that would mean leaving Ichigo. But only for a bit. She just hoped he understood.

2.

Orihime blinked at her pink T-shirt, hanging it high in front of her face. She blinked again, and turned it around. Then she placed it on the table, and looked up at the Shinigami who had delivered it.

"Um…" she started, looking mournfully at her beloved Earth clothes. "It's a bit…torn."

"Aa," the Shinigami nodded, bowing respectfully. "It was to be handed to one of the specialists in Earth clothes, to see if she could mend it, but, um…she refused."

"Oh?" Orihime asked, glancing again at her T-shirt. So many holes.

"Yes, it…in the beginning, it had only been torn in one place, you see," the Shinigami explained, blushing slightly. "But the, ah, specialist who examined it recognised it as the T-shirt of the…um, witch who had attacked her and stole her clothes."

"Oh!" Orihime spluttered, blushing slightly herself. "I see," she murmured, trying to sound unfazed by this. "Well…I'll just have to see if I find someone who can fix it, no?" she asked the Shinigami, smiling at him.

The Shinigami smiled back and nodded, accepting the unspoken apology, and with a swift movement, stood up, and left the room, and Inoue Orihime behind him.

Orihime sighed, and looked down at the t-shirt on the table. She wasn't the one to be vain about these things, but she had _liked that shirt so much_. Ever the optimist, she realised there could be something good to come out of this. She had a very dear friend, for example, who had been very talented with his hands, both as archer and as sewer; and even though he had lost _one_ skill, it did not mean he had lost another. She shrugged, and standing up, she snatched the t-shirt from the table, and went in search of Ishida Uryuu.

She found him at the top of a mountain, no doubt wallowing in self pity. The view seemed to go well with his mood. Sunset, a little wind, and were those _rain clouds_ she saw there? Did it rain in the Soul Society?

Did it ever stop raining in the Soul Society?

"Hello, Ishida-kun," she said cautiously, not daring to sit beside him, lest she disturb his perfected state of melodrama.

"Inoue-san?" Ishida, startled, jumped. He turned around to search her eyes, and offered her what he would deem as a smile. Orihime would most likely call it 'forming a straight line with your mouth, and then tilting it sideways, like a slide', but if she did that, she'd start remembering slides, and wondering if the Soul Society had slides, and if not, what did the children do for fun, and were there any children around, and where did children come from in the Soul Society, since all the Shinigami she had seen were so elusive of romance, and really--

"Inoue-san?" Ishida repeated, concerned over her dazed off look.

"Eh?" Orihime asked, shaking her head to focus again.

"You were looking for me?" Ishida asked.

"Yes! Yes, I was wondering if I could borrow your skills for a moment," Orihime said, making sure to leave the subtle hint at something she hoped he'd catch.

"Um, well…my glove is, eh…washing now, so…"

And he caught it perfectly. Perfectly wrong, but perfect for Orihime to reply, "I was referring to the other skill, Ishida-kun. Or do you need your glove for that one, too?"

For a small moment, his eyes widened (_she knows_), but he covered it up by pushing his glasses up his nose and clearing his throat. "Something you need sewing?"

Orihime grinned sheepishly, and produced the t-shirt from behind her back with a pronounced TA DAA.

Ishida's mouth fell open just slightly. "Whoa," he muttered, staring at the remaining pieces of material barely clinging together. "What happened?"

"Well, one Shinigami delivered it, and told me the woman who had to fix the one gash it had had at the beginning, had turned out to be the same woman I attacked to steal her robes, so I'm guessing…" she trailed off, giving her ex-t-shirt a longing look, "I'm guessing…revenge?"

"Aa," Ishida replied, his mouth still agape. "Vicious revenge."

"I might have hit her too hard," Orihime said, wincing slightly. "I'm going to look for her and apologize, but…um…"

"You want me to fix your t-shirt?"

"I really _liked_ that shirt," Orihime answered, pouting beautifully at it. Or at Ishida. Either way, it had the right effect.

"I'll try as hard as I can," Ishida replied.

"Thank you!" Orihime squealed. She damned the consequences of possibly ruining his perfected state of melodrama, and launched herself into him, making them topple over and fall onto the grass as she bear-hugged her t-shirt's--and her--saviour. Then, if Ishida wasn't blushing enough, she pressed a kiss on his cheek, stood up, and ran away saying something about "wanting to talk to Kuchiki-san".

Needless to say, even though he was redder than a tomato, Ishida started working on the shirt. Thoughts of his failure, of his loss, of his weakness left his mind, and thoughts of making Orihime Inoue smile like _that_ again won over.

3.

"Ne, Taichou," Rangiku insisted for the third time that day. "Taichou, please?"

Histugaya kept his gaze on his paperwork, but did lift one eyebrow. "No."

"But, Taichou…" Rangiku whined.

"Matsumoto-san," Histugaya snapped, finally looking up. "I said no."

"Just one drink, Taichou-sama, just one," Rangiku insisted.

"No."

Rangiku fumed, and glared down at her own deal of paperwork. Her Taichou was being an ass. Well…more than usual. She understood perfectly well that he had his own ways of coping with betrayal and mourning of Hinamori-san--part which she encouraged. But really, it wasn't as if she hadn't been betrayed by her childhood friend, _that damned bastard, if only she had let go a moment later, if only, if only,_ and she had to deal with loss too. She just wasn't ready to succumb into mountains of self-pity for someone who in the end, had proven to be unworthy of such feelings. Of _any_ feelings. And she wasn't using her Taichou as a distraction device, no matter how cute he was. She just thought he'd need the distraction as well. Having to deal with everything, plus Hinamori-san's situation, it probably hung over his shoulders like extra weight. And any more extra weight on Hitsugaya Taichou's shoulders would end up squishing him, and making him even shorter. And no matter how cute _that_ would look, Rangiku wasn't ready. So she figured he needed some sort of release.

Drinking always worked for her, so why not for her eunuch Taichou? (She desperately hoped he was not a eunuch, even though the stature betrayed that.) The only problem was convincing him. So far she had tried begging, whining, and pouting while trying to squish her breasts together to cause nosebleed. And nothing. It was time to take out the big guns. Challenging him.

"Heh. I bet you're scared," she sneered at him.

Hitsugaya's eyebrows rose, and he looked up from his papers to smirk at his fukutaichou. "It's not going to work, Matsumoto."

She knew that, but she wasn't giving up. "I bet you make a lousy drunk. You probably spill over your life's content at a nudge."

"Actually, I probably make a better drunk than you," Hitsugaya replied, having gotten back to his papers, and not even pausing in his writing.

"Yeah right," Rangiku snorted. "As if!"

Hitsugaya smirked, and shook his head, "Anyone could make a better drunk than you, Matsumoto. I know I wouldn't run around spilling my assets all over."

"You have _assets_?" Rangiku asked bewildered, forgetting her plan completely.

Hitsugaya only gave her a LOOK. She still was the only one who dared talk to him that way.

"Prove it," Rangiku issued, but it was a lost cause.

"Nice try," Hitsugaya smirked.

Rangiku glared at his bowed head. Soon, an idea formed, and she couldn't surpress a wild grin. "Taichou?"

"What now?"

"If you don't leave your work and come have a drink with me, I'll tell Kenpachi-san I found him a babysitter for Yachiru."

This time, Hitsugaya _did_ stop writing. In fact, he stopped moving at all. He just lifted his gaze, his eyes narrowing at his fukutaichou's grin. "You _wouldn't_."

Rangiku grinned her triumphant grin, knowing that he was in the sack. "Try me."

There was a pause. A long pause during which Rangiku grinned, and three drops of sweat formed across Hitsugaya's forehead. Then he cleared his throat. "What type of drink?"

In the sack.

4.

"Your men are loud again," Unohana said softly, stepping into the room.

"11th Division has strong, powerful men in it," Kenpachi replied, shifting so that the healer could see to his wounds.

"Strongly stupid and powerfully loud men," Unohana observed.

"Better than the bunch of nancy-men you have," Kenpachi snapped.

Unohana looked up from his wounds, and smiled. It was a sinister smile. "I wouldn't speak of my squad like that if I were in your position, Kenpachi-san. All I have to do is press _here_ and you'd be paralysed for as long as I'd like."

Kenpachi glared at the healer, but soon the glare dissolved into a sinister grin. "Woman, you are evil. I kinda like it."

Unohana smirked, and finished his bandaging. She stood up, and patted his shoulder. "Try to tell your men to quiet down a bit, okay?"

Kenpachi grunted, and settled down in his bed again. Unohana took that as a yes, and turned to leave. "Healer woman," Kenpachi muttered.

"Yes?" Unohana asked, turning her head to observe him from over her shoulder.

"How's m'girl doin'?" Kenpachi grunted.

"Yachiru is behaving better than your men could ever hope to," Unohana smiled. "She's taken to colouring again."

"Ah. What's it today?"

"You killing Aizen after you've dismembered him," Unohana replied dryly. "She's very creative with the blood."

Kenpachi laughed so that it sounded like thunder. "That's my girl," he said affectionately, and closed his eyes in fatigue. "When will these wounds heal?"

"In a day or so," the healer replied. "Should I still bring the tea tonight?" she asked. Taking tea with Kenpachi-san every night had turned into a ritual she hadn't really expected to enjoy that much.

Kenpachi grunted. "Lemon this time. None of those nancy flower flavours."

"Hmmm, we'll see," Unohana smiled, and left the room.

The tea would be jasmine flavoured. And Kenpachi would either drink it, or force Unohana to stuff it down his throat.

5.

Yoruichi missed Earth.

Figure that out. Coming back had been nice. Coming back, seeing Soi Fon again, mending that drift she'd left with her departure. But she missed the leisure of Earth, the soft comfort of Urahara's cheap couch, the smell of Ururu's ramen, and the whole not having to do anything but watch over Kurosaki. Sure, seeing the Gotei 13 had been nice, and being so close to kicking some major Aizen ass had been brilliant, but!

Something was still missing.

Something strangely shaped like a stupid, hat wearing, Urahara-shaped person. She'd grown used to him, so the absence felt like some part of her was empty. Some sadistically idiotic part. It wasn't that she hated him. Nor that she loved him. It was more of a love-hate-co-dependency relationship. And Kami-sama did she miss his _lips_.

There, she'd said it.

She missed Kisuke. Resorting to first names proved that. Soi Fon's friendship was nice, but the whole bunch of unreleased sexual tension reminded her that she needed some different kind of action. And soon. And in the shape of Urahara, if it were possible. Or else she'd corner Soi Fon one day, and she couldn't risk leaving her again with _anothe_r trauma.

Either way, they'd be leaving for Earth soon, and she couldn't wait to see Kisuke's face when she came back. Bastard probably think the Sereitei would lick her feet and beg her to come back. She wouldn't have said no to the feet licking, but coming back? Earth was more promising. The Society would only land her as some sort of Shinigami, complete with running errands, and doing paperwork, and not getting any in _years_.

Really couldn't live without that.

So she'd return to Earth, where she could watch over Inoue and Chad and the prissy boy…Ishida, or something. And watch for Hollows. And be the contact between Earth and the Society. And more important, as soon as she returned to Urahara's house, she was so switching back into human and cornering Kisuke against, preferably, a futon somewhere. Walls worked too. She just hoped it would be soon, because all of this post-battle horniness was getting her itchy.

And Urahara gave the _best_ back-scratching.

6.

Rukia walked towards where Ichigo was sitting on top of a hill. She mildly wondered, and here she agreed with Orihime's theory, why was it that every time a guy tried to go for dramatic, he chose to stamp himself on top of a hill. All it got you were some panting when you reached the top, and sweat. And sweat wasn't dramatic at all.

"Yo," Ichigo saluted, not bothering to open his eyes to acknowledge her. Probably knew her by smell.

"Yeah, whatever," Rukia replied, waving his smirk off as she sat down beside him. "What are you doing up here?"

"Yoga," Ichigo replied dryly.

Well…their conversations were certainly edging towards romantic. Soon enough, she'd be swooning into his arms as he proclaimed his devotion through poems. "Seriously, now."

"Thinking," he answered, opening his eyes to stare at the horizon.

"About what?" Rukia pressed. What? Couldn't he see she was trying to get them talking? Stupid.

"I was wondering about the what ifs," Ichigo answered, allowing the mock of a sneer to grace his lips. "Like, what if I hadn't beaten Byakuya, or Renji, or anyone for that matter. And then I started thinking about what if I had died the night they took you away. And then I thought about the what if of the century."

"Which was," she asked softly, knowing what was coming.

"Which was, what if I hadn't let them take you," Ichigo answered, tilting his head sideways but still avoiding her gaze. "I probably wouldn't have learned _ban kai_."

Rukia snorted, "Oh yeah, talk about looking at the full side of the glass. You're a real prince in shining armour."

"I thought you didn't need fairytale comparisons," Ichigo observed.

"And I don't," Rukia answered, steeling her shoulders.

"Which is why you came," Ichigo observed quietly, looking at his hands.

"I don't like feeling like a fairy princess. I mean, I'm really grateful for the whole saving me deal, more than you can imagine, but I want to get stronger."

"You can do that on Earth too," he noted.

"You know I can't," she whispered, her gaze softening as she studied his hardened jaw.

Ichigo nodded, and took some time in calming himself enough to unclench his jaw. "So," he started, his voice shivering slightly. "You want to become stronger than before?"

"I want to survive the storm that Aizen's going to bring."

"Makes two of us," Ichigo smirked. Then, finally, he turned to glance at her, as he smiled. "Heh. You wouldn't have made a good fairy princess anyway. Too short."

Rukia snorted, and slapped his shoulder, injured or not. "Idiot," she snapped, but it wasn't harsh. She knew he understood. He probably hoped she'd change her mind, since she hadn't really said 'it' yet, but he understood.

"You do realise you're mine now," Ichigo said, a while later.

"What?" she stammered.

"The prince always gets the princess."_ I came to save you because I care about you_.

"I'm not property." _I like the sound of being yours_.

"But I saved you, so the traditions says…" _I think I might even love you_.

"To hell with tradition, Kurosaki!" _I belong to you anyway_.

"Yeah, whatever. Fairy princess, my ass. No princess trains with swords." _Hope you get strong soon so you can come back. Hope you come back_.

"You're just jealous 'cause I can still beat your ass." _I'll always come back. And soon is not soon enough_.

"Whatever."

Rukia smiled, letting out a sigh. Well, their conversation skills were evolving. She wasn't exactly sure if it was for better or worse. But at least the problem was solved, somewhat.

He understood.

7.

Orihime looked at Ishida sideways, and turned back to staring that the clouds. It was so strange she had managed to get him to spend this time here. She was trying to tell him that not everything revolved around being a Quincy or not. And he didn't need to protect her that much, she could deal with it too. After all, every member of the Gotei 13 was bewildered by her strange power. She found the attention oddly…nice. Well. Except for Kurotsuchi. If she could direct her Tsubaki on anyone for a final blow, it would probably be on Kurotsuchi, for hurting her Ishida-kun. But still, there was no killing intent. Still too good-hearted, but that wasn't a bad thing. Because her good nature had made her friends among the entire Gotei 13, and it was nice…having half the Shinigami on her side. Especially Kenpachi-san, who was grateful for her babysitting Yachiru when he was taking tea with Unohana.

Either way, there was still Ishida. There was always Ishida, constant and wonderfully beautiful next to her, on the grass, looking up at the sky. And it was quiet, and the frown of 'I-lost-my-Quincy-ass-kicking-powers-to-a-green-blob' on his face was gone, so Orihime couldn't help but blurt it out.

"I know," she said.

Ishida sighed, and turned his head to look at her. "I know."

"I don't care about it," she said, reaching over to grab his pinky finger in hers.

Ishida offered a grim smile. "I know." _But I do_.

"But you do," she said.

Ishida looked into her grey eyes, and offered an imperceptible nod. Her eyes softened, and her grasp on his finger tightened.

"Just don't hurt yourself with so much caring," she whispered. "I don't want to see you hurt yourself."

"I don't want to see you get hurt," he finally says.

"Then don't hurt me yourself."

Ishida's head snaps around to face her quickly, his eyes widening, narrowed.

"It's not good, hanging on to something so painful. Look at Hitsugaya-san, or Hinamori-san, or really, just about any captain. They might smile--well, Rangiku might--, but they're still hurting, and I hate that. I hate seeing people hurt. It's not that big a deal. You aren't weak because of it. You're still the smartest one of the group, and you saved my t-shirt!"

"Aa."

"Just don't…don't do anything to hurt yourself, trying to hang on to…that. I'm not saying that you should forget about it, but remember you have friends, and you have me. And…"

"I know," he said. "And…thank you," he whispered, gathering her hand in his and squeezing.

Orihime smiles, and because they haven't really mentioned 'it', she decides to let him pretend for a while. "So, is your glove still washing?"

But Ishida, even though he understands, decides to start trying today to easily let go. "No. It's…gone."

Orihime's smile lights up the day, and his eyes widen when she rolls over to press her lips at the corner of his mouth. His real healing starts now. It'll probably be tough.

But if she kisses him like that, he'll live.

8.

"Taichou," Rangiku drawled, lifting her head from the table. "You," she said, trying to point at the man, and knocking over a glass in the process, "Are a lousy drunk."

Hitsugaya offered her a undignified grunt, and tried to throw an empty sake cup at her.

"Worse than I am, and that's saying!" she muttered, squinting her eyes in search of a filled cup of sake.

Hitsugaya offered her that LOOK, or a drunken rendition of it, as to tell her 'speak of this and I'll kill you dead', but only managed to give himself a headache when his eyes crossed.

"But," Rangiku sighed, happy when she found a drop of sake in a cup, "this is nice. The company, I mean."

Hitsugaya grunted again.

Rangiku chuckled, "Heh. Tons worse than me, Taichou. Can't even speak!"

Hitsugaya tried to give her a look to say 'I can speak very well, I just choose not to', but gave up because he kept confusing that look with the one he had assigned for 'don't call me Shiro-chan, dammit'.

"'m sorry about Hinamori-san," Rangiku mutters after a while of silence.

"Will you shut up?" the Captain hisses. His head really hurts. And Rangiku doesn't get it.

"I know it's a fragile matter, but you really have to live on. She'll wake up, of course she will, but you might just want to admit she doesn't love you like that. Girl has a thing for bad guys, gotta admit."

"Matsumoto, shut it."

"Keeping it all on the inside won't help. Look at me, I finally admit Gin was the most idiotic thing I ever went through, and it goes perfectly well now!"

"Look, Rangiku," Hitsugaya snaps. "I've gotten over Hinamori months ago."

"You…have?"

"Lord, yes! It's just that people insist on thinking I'm still moaning over her. I don't bother correcting them, it'd be me against the rumour mill, and I don't give a damn."

"You're…over it?"

"Yes, dammit! I realize Momo only sees me as her brother, and frankly, so do I, kind of, and I've stopped mourning, because that's for the weak, and I've gotten over it."

"_Prove it_."

This time her plan works. Hitsugaya, quicker than she's seen, moves so that he's standing next to her in the next moment. And presses a kiss to her lips. Then he pulls back, not wanting to admit that that was his first kiss. Ever. And it would be a great moment, but Rangiku has to spoil it.

"You call that a kiss?" she smirked, bringing her hand to rest on his shoulder, and keeping him in place. She flexed her fingers, and placed them at the nape of his neck, bringing him down a notch. "Taichou needs more practice," she murmured, and softly brushed her mouth over his, proceeding to show him exactly how practice goes.

As Hitsugaya brushed his hand over the back of her neck, chuckling when Rangiku hiccupped, she decided that yes.

Drinking solved _everything_.

9.

"What flavour is it today?" Kenpachi asked, stepping into Unohana's office.

The woman looked up from her papers, raising her eyebrows. "There is no tea today," she told him.

"Why not?" Kenpachi glowered, daring her to tell him why she was interrupting their routine.

"You sparred today," she pointed out to his bleeding arm. "And I told you not to for two weeks."

"So you refuse giving me tea?" Kenpachi glowered. "Woman, we ain't married, don't act like it!"

"If we're not, then don't act like I'm refusing you conjugal rights," Unohana smartly replied, and cleared her throat while Kenpachi fiddled. "And I was acting as your healer, not your wife."

"I can't go without sparring," Kenpachi grumbled.

"I know that, I'm just asking you to not get more injured, or over exert yourself. Okay, so that means no sparring, but look on the bright side!"

One of Kenpachi's eyebrows lifted.

"More time with Yachiru!" Unohana suggested.

Kenpachi rolled his eye, "M'girl likes hanging around that Inoue Orihime girl. I believe you had taken her under your training?"

"Ah, Orihime, yes, she's training with me, why do you ask?"

"I knew it! You're conspiring against me!"

It was Unohana's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Well, my girl's hanging with you trainee, you're acting like my wife, and with all that nancy flower flavoured tea you're giving me, I'll turn into some 4th Division mutant soon!"

Unohana paused for a moment, looking at his childishly pouting face. Then she coughed into her hand. "Well, if that's what you think, you can go." She returned her gaze to her papers.

Kenpachi glowered at her, and turned to leave.

"But," she said, making him stop mid-pace. "If you hadn't sparred today, we would've had lemon tea."

"Le…lemon?" Kenpachi whispered, making Unohana smirk as she continued to look at her empty papers.

"Lemon tea. I was only going to scold you some, can't ruin perfectly good tea. But if you must leave, I understand your need to continue being powerful and strong and all…_macho_."

"But…lemon tea?"

"Lemon tea," she replied, still looking at her papers, and waiting.

Two seconds later, the floor creaked as Kenpachi joined her at the table, his 'want tea now' face on.

10.

Kuchiki Byakuya really could do without Renji's updating him on the Soul Society's rumour mill. Really, he was still recovering, but that didn't mean he was ready to make friends with his fukutaichou. Not yet anyway. He liked him better when he was carving things in wood, like he had been two days ago, before Kurosaki had left the Society.

Renji wasn't one to give up easily, anyway. So no matter how much Byakuya glared and glowered, the redhead left his carving-in-wood job on a temporary hiatus, as he resumed the stories.

"So, Rukia says she's staying here to train, so that Aizen can't kill her, but she wants to get strong because honestly? Now Kurosaki could kick _her_ ass, and she doesn't want that, cause he'd never let her live with that. Anyway, she'll probably get stronger, no doubt in that, and then she'll manage to prance back to Earth and launch herself into Kurosaki's arms and have babies or something like that," he narrated.

"And Inoue got really close with Ishida, although they think they're being subtle about it, but I know a hickey when I see…I just know hickeys well. She's probably teaching him how to be less of a drama queen, which is _good_. Then she was training under Unohana-san, and babysitting Yachiru. Nerves of steel, that Orihime. Kenpachi likes her," he noted.

"You know who else Kenpachi likes?" Renjo asked, not really caring whether Byakuya wanted to know or not. "Unohana-san," he declared, and here it must be known that Byakuya chocked on air. Not that Renji noticed. "Yeah, they're having tea every day, and Unohana gives Yachiru crayons, and better candy than the one you give her, Taichou.

"But candy is what Hitsugaya is getting nowadays. Ikakku heard him and Rangiku in a storing room, all wanton and whatnot. Not that Ikakku can be trusted, and what the hell is a storing room doing in the Headquarters?" he asked, and really, Byakuya was asking himself the same. "But anyway, it is true, because yesterday, I saw Matsumoto kiss Hitsugaya in full daylight, before she was headed home. And he pinched her ass, I think. Or maybe that was just me." _Oh please_, Byakuya thought, _please let it be just you._

"And anyway, Yoruichi went back to Earth in the end, but this time there's no angry Soi Fon left behind. At least, there won't be any angry Soi Fon until she realises the reason for Yoruichi's second departure is Urahara," he leered. "Woman's probably getting some right _now_, lucky her. Not like others," he muttered.

Byakuya decided he had enough the moment Renji threatened to enter the personal territory. "Abarai-san," he snapped, catching his attention. Then, perfectly serious, and really considering it, he deadpanned, "If there is ever some need to send someone to Earth, I'm going to apply your name first, and I'll pay if it's what gets you to _shut up_."

Renji paused, his mouth opened. Then, silently, he picked up his knife and the piece of wood, and coughed slightly. "I'll…just go back to my carving, now, Taichou. In silence."

"Goody," Byakuya replied dryly.

Well. So there was romance in the air, and his fukutaichou was drinking it up eagerly. And those pesky visitors finally went back to Earth. And with this great new threat, Renji had finally shut it.

Ah…_silence_.

:END:


End file.
